


Angel Surveillance

by Lunasong365



Series: Luna's GO Poetry [2]
Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Bookshop, Implied Slash, M/M, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:58:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3858118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunasong365/pseuds/Lunasong365
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>POV: Crowley.  This poem grew out of my wondering why Aziraphale takes lovely care of his hands but seemingly not much else.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angel Surveillance

I don’t regret what I did in the Garden.  
All I did was allow them a choice  
(it’s more than you or I got).  
A dichotomous viewpoint doesn’t allow room for grace  
in the execution of Someone’s effin’ ineffable plan  
(execution? Hell well could have been mine…but I just kept talking).  
I do like these days better.

I watch you from across the room when you think I’m asleep.  
Hands that held a flaming sword now carefully turn the vellum pages of ancient tomes.  
You pause and, lifting a pen, mark a thought to paper.  
Your fingers encircling, grasping the shaft – DAMN your nails are buffed and perfect.  
Why do you take better care of your hands than your wings?  
You lose yourself in books – what was, instead of what IS.  
Come, let’s go to the park and feed the ducks.

You deliberately tear each slice into bite-sized bits, ensuring fairness and impartiality  
(the ducks will be fed regardless of your efforts).

At midday you cheerfully prepare a tea tray and set it before me.  
You fuss over the sugar and biscuits (custard creams and bourbons).  
We make sport of breaking the wafers to lick at the cream.  
Late at night we knock off a few bottles and knock over some more.  
Deep into our cups we discuss everything but ourselves.  
Why can’t you see it? Why can’t I say it?  
It’s solely in this that I have no rejoinder.

You’ve poured out tea and wine for me.  
I wish I could pour out my heart to you.


End file.
